


Betrayer's Crusade

by JAMoczo



Category: Neverwinter Nights
Genre: Angst with a happy ending sort of, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-16
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-27 02:50:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6266557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JAMoczo/pseuds/JAMoczo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Once upon a time, there was a priest of Myrkul, who fell in love, led an assault on the Land of the Dead, and paid the ultimate price.   </p><p>(Meanwhile, two atheists, an ex-Kelemvorite, a Doomguide, and a giant spirit rainbow god bear walk into a bar, and…)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Is it weird I'm always interested in the legendary backstories? Oh well. I hope you enjoy.

The steps to the temple were often the temporary resting place of babies, but usually not two who were of different ages. But one day, many years ago, there were two sacrifices: both boys under the age of 4, both with dark hair and eyes but different demeanors. The younger was scared and shy, and the older regarded the High Priest with suspicion but conditional acceptance. 

Those demeanors changed as the days passed. The two boys were named Akachi and Eveshi, and with their names and integration their true personalities emerged: Akachi was a born leader with a mischievous streak and a penchant for ignoring the rules and the odds, while Eveshi was a light-hearted, easily-amused soul who was closer to his brother than his own shadow.

They were unremarkable, merely children playing pretend at being acceptable members of the clergy. The High Priest did not consider them any differently than the other children who had been sacrificed to the Lord of Bones.

\---

If he ever had the ear of Myrkul, the High Priest would request they stop this nonsense of accepting child sacrifices. On paper one got an acolyte from birth, but in reality, what one really got was a group of stubborn brats who argued with anything logical. 

"You can't be serious!" Akachi exclaimed, voice getting louder. "We're shirking our duty by ignoring the dead and dying. They need us."

The High Priest was having none of it. "We cannot tend the sick if we are dead, you well-intentioned fool. If any of us go out into the city, the plague will kill us all. It is not yet our time.”

Mulsantir was slowly dying, which was not a surprising turn of events in this day and age. Whenever people gathered together, inevitably plague would spread between them. This one in particular was called the “Black Whisper.” From what he had heard of the wails beyond the temple walls, it promised a quick and painful death to those it affected.

Akachi had a poor temper, which was apparent even in his youth. His cheeks had turned red, and his fists were clenched. “You’re a coward!” he snapped. 

“No, you are a child, only six years old,” the High Priest told him sternly. “You have not been inducted into the clergy. You have not administered any rights. You have never seen a corpse. You have never lived through sickness. This plague is an aspect of the Lord of Death that must cull the populace.”

The boy shook his head. “No, we’re being tested. We need to go out and tend to the dying. We need to. Myril will keep us safe.”

The High Priest prayed for the patience to deal with this. “Myrkul would do no such thing. Why don’t you go find and play with your brother? You know, the one who is currently being well-behaved while you are being an obnoxious brat.”

Akachi stomped his foot. “I’ll show you.” The young boy stormed off.

The older man rubbed his temples. “Stubborn, arrogant, brash and temperamental. He will never make a good priest.” 

\---

“I don’t know about you, but I still feel fine!” Eveshi said.

“I don’t know how you can sound so happy,” Akachi replied, exhausted. “We just saw a lot of dead people.”

The brothers had spent all day in the city, administering rights to the dead and dying as best they knew how. It was not as easy as Akachi had imagined it would be, but also not as difficult as the High Priest had made it sound. 

“I’m definitely not happy about that,” Eveshi said, a pout in his voice. “I mean, no, that’s all pretty sad, especially all the not-dead people crying. But when you made that one corpse try to scare me, that was pretty funny.”

Akachi smiled a little. “You startle way too easily.”

“I do not!”

“Besides, you shouldn’t be afraid of talking dead. If it’s dead people talking, then it’s gotta be a prank, since corpses can’t… can’t…”

The boys’ mirth faded as they entered the temple. Everyone inside was dead. 

“Oh dear,” said Eveshi. Akachi would have covered his baby brother’s eyes, if his hand would move.

“Actually, the dead most certainly do talk,” said the High Priest, who was also most certainly dead. “Welcome home, Akachi and Eveshi. We have a lot to discuss.”

\--- 

Gannayev-of-Dreams was used to odd things happening to him. It was to be expected when one was a hagspawn, but even moreso when one could communicate with the spirits of the land. But even he was thrown off by the random appearance of a beautiful celestial being who appeared in his jail cell and requested he help fight a bear god.

Not that he wasn’t used to beautiful women, mind. He certainly was. But there was something different about Garnet Farlong that he just couldn’t put his finger on. She was dressed in the black and grey chainmail of one of the more somber Realms’ gods. She was accompanied by a woman who was very obviously a Red Wizard of Thay, even if no one in Mulsantir seemed to be able to tell this with her wearing something not-red. More odd, however, was how serene she sounded no matter what she was discussing.  
For example, this. 

“So Mulsantir is apparently deeply connected to the Shadow Plane,” she said as if discussing the weather. “We need to investigate the other side to find someone named Kaelyn, who is a half-celestial. If we find her, then her siblings will help us fight the bear god.”

“I feel as if I’ve missed some things,” Gann admitted. “Why is Okku trying to kill you?”

“Earlier this week, I woke up in his barrow covered in blood and sealed with runes.” She pulled out a black, leather-bound journal with the image of weighing scales etched into the cover. “He took exception to this.”

“And, how did you get there?” Gann asked, feeling he shouldn’t have to.

“I don’t know,” she replied, flipping through the pages. “Last I recall, I’d just destroyed hordes of powerful undead and slain an avatar of shadow magic. Also known as Tuesday.” She nodded to herself, closing the book. “The Shadow Plane may also be the location of a few texts I’m interested in, but first we need to check with the Temple of Kelemvor here.”

Gann snorted in derision, but was stopped from saying anything more by Safiya, who shook her head and held up her hand to silence him. As Garnet began the walk to the temple, the Red Wizard leaned in close to Gann and whispered, “Don’t say anything. Garnet is a Doomguide.”

“Ah, that explains the scales on her journal. But I’ve never been cowed to silence by the faithful before-”

“Oh, it’s not a matter of _not hurting her feelings_ ,” Safiya said, voice derisive at the notion, “but she’s either delusional or powerful, and from my mother’s concern over her welfare, I’m guessing powerful.”

Gann frowned. “We are powerful as well. But if she’s as strong as you imply, then she shouldn’t need our help…”

“You sound doubtful, and you should. My mother made me vow to help her, and I will, but there has to be a reason she woke up in that barrow and I want to find out what it is. And you clearly sense something off about her, don’t you?”

He nodded. “Yes. It’s… hard to place. An emptiness. Likely a result of loss.”

“Or something. Regardless, I think we’ll both be here to help her, and there are times it’s easier to just keep one’s mouth shut, and this is one of those times.” Her expression softened a little as the two began walking behind their leader. “For one of the faithful, she’s not that into proselytizing. The only reason I figured out she’s a Doomguide is because of her garb and accoutrements, not due to any sort of prayer talk.” 

She stopped talking as the two walked into the temple, watching as Davorik and Garnet greeted each other as if old friends. “Oh. Powerful it is,” Gann muttered.

Safiya looked to him. “Pardon?”

“Oh, you’e not from Mulsantir. Davorik is a Chosen of Kelemvor. If he knows Garnet despite her being from the Sword Coast, that likely means she is as well.”

Safiya digested that information. “Well, hopefully that won’t prove inconvenient.”


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thanks for joining me on this weird plot-bunny of mine. Just an FYI, my exposure to the lore of the setting has been the Baldur's Gate and Neverwinter Nights games, with some help from the wikia. So please do not let my inaccuracies break your brain, although if you're feeling helpful you're more than welcome to correct me. Otherwise, enjoy!

Akachi was firm and unwavering. "This needs to be done despite the cost, Ahrraman."

His little brother stuck his cheeks out in protest. "Don't you pull the baby names on me, Akachi. We can't do this. It's wrong and we will get in so much trouble."

Akachi put his hand over his heart. "I'll take all the blame, I promise. You definitely won't get in trouble. I'll even lie and say you refused to help me! And trust me, if I could do this alone, I would. But I can't. I need your help." He opened his eyes as wide as possible to look as much like a kicked dog as he was capable. This usually worked on the witches in the city, but this was his first time testing it on his brother.

Eveshi took several deep breaths. "All right, fine. Geez."

Akachi beamed and hugged his brother tightly before directing him to the task at hand. "First we gotta move it down to the river."

"It's a lake," Eveshi corrected even as he took his position. The two lifted, straining, but began to walk.

"I'm bad at that kind of stuff," he admitted, breath tight as they struggled. Their work was not done, though, and they slowly moved through the town to the riv – lake, before dropping the package in the shallows.

Akachi procured some large, thick-bristled brushes. "Now, we scrub."

"Ewwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!"

"Oh come on, you big baby! We're High Priests of the God of the Dead! This is kind of our job!"

"You're the High Priest, and that's only 'cause we're the only two here! And this is totally not our job!"

He pushed a brush into Eveshi's hands. "Let's get this over with."

Eveshi was pouting mightily even as they waded into the water. "Gross."

It took a few hours of stiff-arming and nose-plugging, but in the end, what had once been a very rotted corpse turned into a significantly less-smelly skeleton. The clothes it had been wearing would also need replaced, but that was hardly a sacrifice given the state they'd been in.

"It's a good look," Eveshi admitted as they dragged the skeleton out.

The residents of the town were standing on the docks behind them, staring. A few were throwing up. Akachi was relieved that no one had summoned the berserkers. "It's not what it looks like!" he cried. "This was the High Priest, he died in the plague! Myrkul uses the corpse to talk to me sometimes and it got really gross."

Judging from the disturbed looks and mutters, this did not make the situation look any better. It was hard to hear, but someone said "Perverse" and another mourned the state of today's youth. Akachi didn't understand any of it, so he started dragging the skeleton back.

It took until nightfall for Akachi and Eveshi to make it back and put a nice set of robes on the skeleton. Their timing was perfect, as it wasn't long before the spine straightened and sat up. Despite not having lungs, it obviously sighed. "Really?" It looked at them.

Akachi gave his most innocent smile. When he noticed Eveshi looked terrified, he kicked his ankle and smiled more innocently, and Eveshi copied him.

The skeleton smacked his forehead with the bones of his hand before standing up. "I am going to pretend none of that happened. Today, we-"

The doors to the temple opened, and slowly a small figure crept inside.

Akachi wasn't ashamed to admit that he had no idea about the witch ranking system beyond "the oldest one was in charge." There were words – hathran, ethran – but he didn't know what they were. What he did know, however, was that the lead witch terrified him on some baser level.

Her name was Sezja Badgerwill. She was not much taller than Akachi due to her stooped back, and she required a cane to walk. Akachi, inept at the arcane arts as he was, had no idea just how powerful, or not, she was. She was also incredibly old; her eyes were barely visible around the wrinkles in her face, which were not at all disguised or hidden by her elaborate and beautiful mask. She was tiny, old, and ruled Mulsantir.

"Ma'am," Akachi gulped, nervously glancing between her and the massive skeletal form of his god. Myrkul for his part said nothing, and Sezja's lack of recognition meant she did not see him, or was unimpressed by him. Akachi hoped it was the former, but had a feeling it was the latter.

"The priests of Myrkul have been allowed in Mulsantir for a few reasons, all of them rather unsavory," she said, her voice warm and calm. "It is time you learn of your primary purpose here, child." She tapped the tip of her cane on the stone, and three huge men walked in behind her; two of them were escorting the third, who was bound in ropes. All three had glorious beards. "This is Segesvar."

"Hi," said Akachi, not sure what else to do.

The man in the middle laughed, boisterous. The one at his left side kicked him behind the knee, knocking him off balance. However, his laughter did not fade until Sezja glare at him over her shoulder. "He went on a rampage and murdered the majority of the polar bear berserker lodge."

Eveshi gasped. Akachi fixed the man with a stern look. "I take back my hi."

"Darn," he said, clearly not impressed at an adolescent's anger.

"In cases like this, the crime is so disgusting that execution is simply not enough. That is where you come in."

Akachi had no idea what they were asking of him, but he didn't want to admit it. He looked to Eveshi, who also looked flabbergasted, and then looked to Myrkul. The tall form had covered his head with a massive hood to disguise its features, before beckoning Akachi forward with a skeletal hand.

Akachi felt foreboding and honored all at once, so he took a deep breath and began walking…

… to the outskirts of town, next to a barn. It was perplexing, especially since it was obvious that the only two people who knew what was going on was Sezja and Myrkul. Segesvar was less cocky, and his two armed guards were visibly confused. Myrkul held out a stone to Akachi, and the boy took it. Before he could examine it, in front of him a dark doorway twisted into view, leading nowhere visible but invoking a sense of danger nonetheless.

Eveshi pressed himself to Akachi's back. "We gotta go through there?"

Akachi looked at the adults, who were looking at him. He took the deepest breath he could manage and walked through.

Now this was a change.

It was Mulsantir, but devoid of color, charm, or anything pleasant. It was a barren wasteland that had the same landmarks, but with shadows instead of people and no sun or moon. The land was dotted with undead. This was the first time Akachi had seen the creatures, and he found them a little more scary than the faith had described them. Behind him, the three berserkers were tense and alert, and Eveshi's hands were over his mouth with his eyes wide.

Wait, not the same landmarks. The temple in Mulsantir proper was small and contained, but the temple here was oppressively large.

WELCOME TO THE SHADOW PLANE. Akachi jumped nearly out of his skin. Myrkul's voice was inside of his head instead of the air. THIS IS ONE OF MANY OTHER DIMENSIONS THAT YOU WILL SEE AS ONE OF MY FAITHFUL. THIS IS MY PERSONAL FAVORITE, AS IT'S A WORLD WHERE THE DARK REIGNS SUPREME AND THE UNDEAD ARE AT HOME. AHEAD YOU WILL SEE THE GREATEST OF MY TEMPLES: THE DEATH GOD'S VAULT.

Sezja spoke next, her words cutting off the end of Myrkul's. "Your predecessors were permitted to set up a temple in Mulsantir to service the travelers of the Golden Way. They chose the city due to its connection to the Shadow Plane, and abused their privilege by creating that eyesore you see there. That being said, we have made use of it." She looked to her berserkers. "Strengthen your will, we are going inside."

The two in good standing nodded, and Segesvar rolled his eyes. "Is this really more worth it than just chopping my head off?" he asked, bravado hiding his fear.

No one answered him as they walked to the ornate entrance of the temple. Eveshi and Akachi were pressed together now, Akachi trying his best to be brave and Eveshi not bothering to hide his terror. The undead were staying back, likely due to Myrkul's influence.

AS YOU GROW OLDER, THE UNDEAD WILL HEED YOU, his god said. FOR NOW, THEY WILL SIMPLY LEAVE YOU BE. FAR BETTER THIS THAN THE FATE THAT BEFALLS OTHERS WHO COME HERE UNBIDDEN. With a flick of his wrist, the door flew open. Even the sound it made as it hit the walls was muffled. Myrkul strode in, and Akachi led the other humans inside.

It was oddly beautiful, despite being so dark and lonely. The stonework was impressive, especially on the doors, and the pools were filled with dark water and adorned with fountains. Well, it looked like dark water, anyway; his nose said it was more metallic, but he wasn't exactly sure what it was.

"We go east," Sejza said, starting to walk in lieu of the others' gaped stares. Her steps were short, slow, but sure, and she made it a considerable distance before the others gathered themselves to follow.

Segesvar, who had allegedly murdered a number of berserkers and been sentenced to death without batting an eye, was now visibly overwhelmed. Akachi could see sweat dripping down his temples, and his eyes were huge in his head. "I'm sorry. All right? I'm sorry. Let's just go back. You can kill me however you want to, I deserve it…" His escorts ignored him, although one of the berserkers was obviously sympathetic to some extent.

It got worse. Through a burial room and down a hall led to an open area with an oven at the other end. "Is that an oven? Is this the kitchen?" Eveshi asked in a whisper, his voice doubtful. "Please?"

There was a colorless fire inside, scattering ashes into the air.

THIS IS THE CREMATORIUM.

Sezja looked to her berserkers, and nodded solemnly.

"Wait, we're going to put him in there?" one asked, clearly horrified at the notion. The other looked ill. "You have the Myrkulites here so we can kill people with fire?"

Sezja scowled. "Monsters deserve this. Do it."

"No," Segesvar whispered. "Please, no."

The two warriors moved him forward, even as he fought and screamed everything: words of contrition, threats, pleas to the Triune Goddesses, apologies to his mother… but none availed him, and they shoved him into the contraption. His screams of agony were shrill but short-lasted.

One of the berserkers threw up. So did Eveshi. And no one but Akachi noticed that the shape of a spirit stood up and looked at them.

Looked at him.

"Cool," he whispered. And Myrkul, skinless though he was, still managed to smile at him.

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Shadow Mulsantir was surprisingly claustrophobic, despite being open to the air. It just felt muted and incomplete, and it made Gann feel more uncomfortable than he'd expected. For the first time in a very long time, he was actually thankful for the company of two beautiful women for reasons other than the obvious.

He'd expected Safiya to be flashier and laugh more evilly, but she was subdued and her magic tended to focus toward protection and strengthening herself… and her familiar, Kaji, who was effectively invulnerable after all the protections she would give him (even if he couldn't unset traps, ugh). As for Garnet, he'd seen other priests turn undead before, but rarely as simply or powerfully as she did, so that fit his theory that she was no mere Doomguide. She was also an above-competent healer. But her other spells were lacking, and she very often found herself needing to use her bastard sword. This, of course, left Gann to be the one throwing around massive storms of death, and he rather liked it. It made him feel tough, and help offset the discomfort he was feeling.

As they dispatched more shades and continued walking to the temple at the center, Gann turned to Garnet, curious. "So how does one become a Chosen of one of your gods?"

She nodded to herself as if it were a question she'd heard many times before. "It's given to you, actually. For me, it was a matter of an intense hatred of the undead, which is what happens when one lives in a place called the Mere of Dead Men. I was convinced my mother was killed by them, which…" she made a face. "… she kind of was? Regardless, even from a young age I would go into the Mere and slay undead. It was apparent a god took notice, although Brother Merring thought it might have been Lathander, which would have also fit, but it wasn't. I thanked Kelemvor profusely, learned the other aspects of the faith, and added funerals between my undead-hunting adventures." She sighed wistfully, and muttered, "I'm sure the fact that I had a shard of the Sword of Gith stuck in my chest did little to sway His decision," so low that Gann was certain he'd misheard her.

"Huh."

"The Mere of Dead Men?" Safiya inquired, bemused. "What a name. Might as well have called it 'Zombie Swamp,' or 'Die die die die die.'"

"Those would have been accurate names," Garnet admitted. "Everyone who lived there is now dead, with three exceptions – me, my foster father, and Bevil." She shook her head solemnly. "Somehow, Bevil."

The trio and Kaji stopped in front of the entrance to the grand temple. "Myrkul had a tiny penis," Garnet commented, bemused, as Kaji failed to remove the trap on the door.

"Sorry, Mistress," the homunculi said, sounding like he might cry. He was unharmed, but rightfully ashamed.

"I'm so used to it by now," Safiya assured him, petting his head. The creature began purring, and the three went inside.

"How charming," Garnet drawled once they were inside. "Fountains of blood and sarcophagi everywhere. I rather want to rip my nose off right now."

"On the plus side," Gann pointed ahead, "unless ladies with wings make frequent visits to evil temples, I believe we've found Kaelyn."

The woman in question turned her head around. Her hand was already on a mace at her hip. "Hello," she said, her voice just as monotone as Garnet's. "Since you are obviously not denizens of this place, and since you know my name, I trust you do not mean me harm."

Garnet, Gann and Safiya walked around the blood fountains. "You are correct on all counts," Garnet replied. "We ran into your brother and sister in town, and they requested we find you."

The tips of Kaelyn's lips turned up in a smile that was as understated as the rest of her. "I am not surprised. Efram and Susah are very persistent."

"This seems like the last place someone with holy wings should be," Safiya said, a touch of complaint in her tone. Her gaze was flitting from the hems of her robes, now stained darker due to an accidental misstep, to the walls and back to her companions. "Do I even want to know?"

"This is the next step of my pilgrimage," she explained, as blasé as if she was discussing anything else, "What I seek lies behind this door." She gestured to the large door ahead of her, laden with mosaic. "Once I find the key, I will continue."

"That is a weird door," Safiya murmured, intellectual curiosity taking control as she walked up to it. "The enchantments are almost fascinating."

"Almost fascinating?" Garnet echoed.

"It's hard to explain. If these were rearranged somewhat, we're talking 'plane-changing power.' But since they're this way, we're instead talking 'door with a very specific lock and key.'"

Kaji shook his little misshapen head. "Doors with pacific locks are too hard for me."

"Well," Garnet began, "as much as I'd love to help you get deeper into this hellhole, we need to get back to Mulstantir before a spirit army butchers everyone… inside…" Her voice trailed off as her golden eyes fixed on something on the wall. "Oh…"

There was another mosaic there, once more elaborate and pictorial than on the door. It was showing a battle with no sense to it, dragons and humans and planar beings fighting each other, with one figure in the middle wielding a peculiar-looking sword. "I suppose Myrkul liked mosaics," Gann suggested, not sure what else to say.

Kaelyn's expression brightened. "Ah, yes, this is depicting what is referred to as the First Crusade, or the Betrayer's Crusade. The figure in the center is Akachi, a high priest of Myrkul who led a battle to bring down the Wall of the Faithless."

Garnet's gloved hand was clenched over her chest. "How did he get the Sword of Gith? It was lost in the Hells."

Before the ladies could interrupt, Gann remembered her muttering earlier and interjected, "So you did say you had the Sword of Gith before."

"Yes, a piece of it was lodged in my chest."

"And that's the shard you were feverishly ranting about when I found you!" Safiya exclaimed, clearly excited to have solved a puzzle.

"Fascinating." Kaelyn looked at Garnet with new interest. "Perhaps our meeting here was preordained."

Garnet's thin dark-red eyebrows narrowed over her face. "I… I doubt that." The two looked at each other and said nothing, but it was clear they were both pondering this. "Regardless, we need to head back to Mulsantir, like I said. I would enjoy coming here to purify this place after we stop the spirit army, however. Also, I am looking for a scroll called the Lamentations of the Dead, so I would need to return regardless."

Kaelyn nodded slowly. "Agreed. Let us return to my siblings."

It was the start of a brutally awkward relationship.


End file.
